A Demon And Her Scot (Welcome To Hell) (10 page)

“I know.”

Smug bastard. “Would you hurry up already?”

“Fuck me, lass. Must y
e always have the last word?”

“Yes. Got a problem with that?”

He growled. “No, which I don’t get. I’m the man.”

“And?”

“I should give the orders.”

“Let me guess? I should accept them meekly with my head bowed? Don’t be so old
fashioned.”

“Can I help it if, in my time, women were seen not heard?”

“Don’t forget, I remember that time. I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. But I’ve adapted. Matured and found a spine. I’ve lived long enough to know what I want and am not afraid to ask for it.”

“And what do y
e want?”

She wiggled her ass. “For you to stop teasing me with that big cock of yours and fuck me already. Or do I need to finish the job myself?” In case he didn’t get her hint, she reached between her legs and rubbed a finger over her clit, using her own juices as lube before flicking the head of his shaft.

With a mangled cry, he slammed into her, each thrust accompanied by curt words. “Ye.” Slam. “Are driving me.” Pull out. “Fucking.” Driving back. “Insane.”

Funny, she could have said the same as she clawed at the bedding, each stroke and grunted expression bringing her pleasure higher and higher. It amused her to know her forthrightness frustrated him. It turned her on to see him succumb despite it.

Back and forth he thrust, murmuring endearments one moment, cursing his lack of control at others until, with a mighty cry, he spilled inside her, the hot gush of liquid making her tight channel spasm and milk his spurting length.

As usual after one of their rough couplings, he collapsed atop her, but before she could complain, he rolled them and placed her on his chest. Lying atop him, skin on skin and panting, Aella relaxed as an almost peaceful haze drifted over her. His hand stroked her cheek, and she curled into it, the intimacy not something she ever indulged in. With him
, though, she craved it. She closed her eyes as he spoke to her in his sexy brogue.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the ladies.”

“Nay. Just ye. Only ye. Damn y
e for making me feel again.”

Feel? Was he admitting he cared for her? As in more than just a fuck buddy or cover for her job as his bodyguard? What did he mean? Dare she ask? Or should she just kill him? And how did she feel? She opened her mouth to ask him to explain, but his soft snore clamped it shut.

He fell asleep!
She opened her eyes and canted her head to look. Indeed, the man who’d just dropped a verbal bomb snoozed, mouth open, eyes closed, hair standing on end, looking innocent and all male at the same time. She didn’t know if she should slap him awake or kiss him goodnight.

She did neither, but when she went to slide off his body, the arms looped loosely around her tightened, and trapped in his embrace, she slipped into dreamland where, instead of razing the castle with the princess to the ground, she was the one high in the tower while Niall rode in on a black charger, tartan fluttering, slaying the prince who stood in his way so he could kidnap and then ravish her. She’d never had a better night’s sleep.

Niall feigned slumber as soon as he realized he’d slipped and told her more than he’d meant to. What was he thinking? Admitting to Aella he had feelings for her was suicide in more than a few ways. One, it gave her the power to hurt him. Hurt, use, and destroy him because he doubted he’d recover this time round if Aella betrayed him. Two, even if he could trust her, which more and more he suspected he could, she also had issues when it came to feelings and commitment. Did he want to wake up minus some body parts or, worse, not wake up at all? He’d gotten a glimpse at how Aella dealt with her emotions. Nothing much tended to survive.

Fuck did he like that about her.

He liked too many things, and it was a problem he intended to avoid as long as he could. He spent a restless night, his body a pillow for the vixen who vexed him, his mind a whirl as it spent one moment imagining a future with her then the next destroying it with how it would feel if she didn’t return his affections and tore out his newly beating heart.

The lack of sleep and angst made him particularly testy the following day on the barren golf course where the Lord of Sin proved he was
Master of the Mulligan.

Lucifer whacked at the golf ball, the head hitting it slightly off center, sending the missile on a curved path. It landed, just like the previous fifty shots, in the sand trap with a p
uff of flying dust.

“I fucking hate this game,” the Lord of the Underworld snarled as another club went flying. And again, as with previous club launches hurled in anger, something yelped in the distance. Why Lucifer’s tantrum aim was so good when his intentional one
s always ended up so bad was something Niall didn’t have the inclination to dwell on, not today, not with Aella giving him the cold shoulder since she’d woken that morning.

“And the game hates ye right back,” Niall snapped, his eyes hidden by sunglasses to camouflage not only his sleepless state
, but the fact he couldn’t keep his eyes from following Aella’s every move.

“I need a drink,” Satan groused.

“What ye need to do is concentrate on what I’m telling ye.”

“It’s not fucking working.”

“Because ye are not bloody listening,” Niall roared. “So stop your bitching and moaning and get your hairy arse in that pit with a fucking sand wedge and get the ball out, which I might remind, ye put there.”

“What if I don’t want to? Maybe I want to leave the damned thing there.”

“Stop acting like a whining, panty-wearing princess and fix your mistake. Maybe if ye get some sand up your arse crack and chafe, ye’ll stop hitting it there in the first place.”

“Anyone ever mention you suck as a teacher?”

“Cry me a fucking river. Perhaps ye should switch to playing Barbies and leave the real sports to the big boys,” Niall taunted right back.

The flipped finger made Niall’s lips curl at the corner. But their verbal sparring had the desired effect. The Lord of Sin, face set in a scowl, stomped off to hit his buried ball.

Niall’s grin widened.

“You’re having fun,” Aella accused in a low tone, finally deigning to speak to him after hours of silence.

“Of course I am. It’s not every day a man gets to tell one of the most powerful beings ever what to do and mock him while doing it.”

“You’re evil.”

“And ye have been avoiding me.” He took his snake by the tail and shook her, tired of the strained silence between them.

“Am not.”

He took a step toward her, and she took an automatic one back.

“Are too. Care to tell me why?”

“Just doing what I’m paid for and keeping an eye out for trouble.”

“Ye and I both know that’s a lie. Something is bothering ye.”

“Would you stop asking me questions? What I feel is none of your business.”

“I say it is.”

“No, it’s not, or have you forgotten this whole dating thing is a sham. You’re not my real boyfriend. We have nothing.”

“Bullshit. What we have is more than a mission.”

She wouldn’t look him in the eye, but she did lick her full lips. “No, it isn’t. You’re just a job, one that ends after the match tomorrow.”

“Is that all I am to ye?” As usual when his emotions ran high, his brogue emerged thicker than usual. “A job?”

“Of course. What else did you expect?”

“I hoped ye wouldn’t lie.”

“What do you want from me?”

“More than ye are apparently willing to give. And more than I should expect.”

“What did you expect?”

Good question. But he knew he wanted more than
for her to see him as just a job.
I want her to see me as a man. See me as her lover. Her future.
What happened to never trusting or loving again? Great vows for a past so far gone he couldn’t even recall the color of Fionnaghal’s eyes. But he knew that of Aella’
s—
yellow with the narrowest of slits when she was angry, glowing golden with wide black bands when she was amused, and black bottomless orbs when she was on the verge of coming and screaming his name.

“Well, Scot? What do you want from me other than protection and a hole to dip your cock?”

Your love.
He bit his tongue, but her crossed arms and tense expression demanded a reply. “Forget I asked. For some reason, I thought we could continue seeing each other once this was all over. Guess I was mistaken. Blame it on my age and old-fashioned views.”

Her mouth opened and then shut, and her face went through a myriad of expressions, but in the end, she never expressed any of the thoughts running through her head because Lucifer
, of course, ruined the moment with his shouted, “Fuck me to the Milky Way and back. I got the little bastard out and on the green. And it only took me five strokes this time. I think I’m getting better.”

The Lord of Sin might have finally shaved a few strokes off his game, but Niall felt like he’d lost a prime opportunity with Aella. Citing some lame excuse about seeing a psychic friend in need, his lass scurried off after assigning some area guards to watch over them.

Grabbing a club, Niall cursed and whacked at the whip-thin brush dotting the edge of the putting area.

“And I thought my swing was off,” Lucifer remarked as he leaned on his putter
, watching. “Want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“As if ye fucking care.”

“I do actually because if your head’s not in the game, then you’re not giving me your hundred and one percent. Which means my game is at risk. And we can’t have that. The world revolves around me, you know. So get your head out of your ass and focus back on the most important thing here. Me.”

But Niall couldn’t. “I don’t understand her. I could have sworn she felt something for me.”

“Who says she doesn’t?”

“Aella, of course. She says I’m just a job.”

“And you believe her?”

“Why wouldn’t I? She’s the one who constantly claims she’s not afraid to speak her mind. That she’s a modern woman.”

Smoke blew out of the devil’s nose. “You are such an idiot. Anyone can see the gal is nuts about you. Or do you think she screws all her missions?”

“How the fuck would I know? I never asked.” Because he feared going on a murderous rampage if she did tell him about past lovers. His jealousy knew no bounds where she was concerned.

“The answer is no. Nor does she take them to her favorite karaoke bar. Or spend the night with them. Or cause thousands in damages at brothels chasing them down. Aella is usually a very composed minion. If something pisses her off, or confuses her, she kills it.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“You, my kilted caddy, are still very much alive, or is that undead? Even I’m not sure what the politically correct term is anymore for your kind. Not that I give a fuck. You still have a head on your shoulders and are still mobile despite the fact you wiggled your way under her skin. She must like you.”

“Well, she has a funny way of showing it.”

“What did you expect? Fucking flowers and poetry? She’s a hunter. A demon. A woman used to getting her way and showing no vulnerability.”

“And I’m a warrior.”

“As well as a stubborn ass. One of you needs to bend and say something first or you’ll both end up alone. Is that what you want?”

Live without his lass? Go back to his barren existence? He swung and hit the ball on the ground with a solid thunk. It soared through the air and landed with a swish in the cup.

Lucifer whistled. “Fuck me. If only you could play in my place.”

“So ye think I need to tell her how I feel?”

“No. But I’ll bet it’s what she wants. I know Gaia is always asking me to tell her how much I care. You’d think the fact I swore off other women would be enough. But no. She likes me to say it out loud. Damned emasculating, if you ask me.”

Niall knew well the embarrassment. He’d suffered through it once before. “Last time I was open with my heart, I got screwed.”

“By a woman you’d barely spoken two words to the entire time you knew her. This time round, you’ve had time to get to know her. What does your gut say?”

His gut? How about his heart? It screamed she cared. It insisted he trust. It begged him not to let fear and pride stand in the way of claiming his demon. “I preferred the old days when we just traded cows and gold for our brides. This talking shit is annoying.”

“Tell me about it. Who knew when I told that female to eat that damned apple the havoc it would cause.”

Then again, would Niall love Aella as much if she didn’t have such a sharp mind and tongue? Not that he got to tell her that night. Citing a need for Niall to be rested and not all sexed out, Lucifer placed him in lockdown. No Aella. No booze. No nothing. Thank fuck for the lotion in the bathroom and his hand. Given how he couldn’t get his mind off Aella, he might have died of frustration otherwise.